


Asking For It

by pikasafire



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Light Dom/sub, M/M, Porn, failing at kink negotiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 21:45:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/715430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikasafire/pseuds/pikasafire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claude's not very good at asking for what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Asking For It

**Author's Note:**

> For pass_shoot_porn.  
>  **Warnings** : Utter failure at kink negotiation. Light D/S play.

Claude's not very good at asking for what he wants. It's not that he's embarrassed, or that he's scared Danny will say no (though he is a little bit). But when he tries to ask Danny to pull his hair or come on his face or hold him down and make him beg for it, the words catch in his throat and he ends up stammering and mumbling until it’s too much and he gives up. Maybe he's a little submissive, and whatever, that's cool. Claude freaked out about it for a while when he was younger and was weirded out by how much he wanted people to push him around. But these days, he doesn't really care - except he's not getting what he wants.

The problem is that Danny's not an aggressive guy. He's sweet and quiet and, sure, you can rile him up easy enough but Danny's got far too much practice keeping his cool that most of the time he'll just turn and walk away until he's calmed down. Which is not what Claude wants at _all_.

Claude adores Danny, harbours a crush the size of Mars and so he tries to appreciate what he's got and not let it bother him. But he can't help looking at him occasionally, wishing he were bigger, more aggressive, and then there's the horrible guilt that sits heavy in his stomach. He's got Danny. That's enough. He doesn't need the rest.

Except he's going crazy.

It's bad loss after bad loss and Claude's recognising the signs: finding himself being argumentative for the sake of it, moving things he knows will piss Danny off, giving short, curt answers until he knows Danny's going to snap. They'll fight, and it won't be what Claude wants (he doesn't even know what he wants, not really), but it'll be _something_ to ease the itch under his skin.

He wonders if he can get Danny to throw a punch.

It's always something innocuous to set Danny off. This time, it's taking the batteries out of the remote. They're both on the sofa, stuck on some shitty cartoon station the boys watch, and Danny's frowning at the remote, giving it a bit of a whack. "Come _on_ ," he mutters, hitting it again. Frowning, he turns it over, opens up the back. "Where the fuck are the batteries?" He demands. It’s been a bad day already, it won’t take much to make him lose his temper.

"I needed them." Claude says, carefully keeping his tone flippant. He knows this is childish. He could just open his mouth and _talk_ about it. But, this seems easier.

"For _what_?"

Claude shrugs. "A thing."

Danny's face is flushed, shoulders tense, "You know you earn a lot of money, right? You could have bought your own damn batteries."

"It was an emergency."

He can see Danny reaching breaking point, the way his fists clench. Danny moves to stand, storm off to cool down somewhere else and Claude can't let that happen.

"Don’t just leave. _Do something_ ," Claude snaps, fingers darting out to grab tight around Danny's wrists before he can move.

Danny looks confused. "I - _What?_." He's angry and it's exactly what Claude wants.

He grabs Danny's hand, forces it into his hair, curling his fingers so he's holding on tight, and then slides off the sofa, sinks to his knees in front of Danny. "Do you get it now?" Claude asks, a little desperately. "Do something. _Make me pay_." He rests his head forward on Danny's knee, hiding his face. Why is this so _hard_?

Danny's grip gentles, but he doesn't let go. "I don't understand." He says slowly. “Is this what this has been about?”

"Please? Just-" Claude says. He knows he sounds needy and pathetic but he feels like both of those things right now and he doesn't know what else to do. "Please, Danny."

"Okay-" Danny's voice cracks a little, unsteady and unsure. "What do you want?"

It's not the first time Danny's asked Claude this and Claude bites back a noise of frustration. He doesn't _know_. He wants _Danny_ to tell him. He stays silent and instead reaches out for the button of Danny's jeans. Danny shifts obligingly, allowing Claude to unbutton them, lifting his hips so Claude can tug them down to his knees.

He's not hard but Claude doesn't mind, running his hands up and down Danny's thighs, pressing his mouth to pale skin, gentle teasing until Danny's fingers tug, pulling him where he wants him. _That's it_. Claude loves doing this, feeling Danny get hard in his mouth, the quiet noises he makes, the rhythm of mouth and tongue, wet and a little sloppy.

Danny's fingers have gone lax in Claude's hair and Claude reaches up, covering Danny's hands with his own and forcing them to tighten, forcing his own head down, Danny's dick down his throat. "You want -" Danny can't finish the thought, shifts his hips a little instead. Claude hums approvingly. "I don't want to hurt you." He says hesitantly. Claude glares up at him through his curls, Danny now hard in his mouth and it must be expressive enough that Danny gets the message, huffs a quiet laugh. "Yeah. Alright," he says, tightens his hold, pushing his hips forward, Claude's head down. "Like this?" It's a rhetorical question. Kinda hard to answer with a cock down his throat, and so Claude just hums a little, closes his eyes and relaxes, allowing Danny to control the pace. "Fuck, Claude."

Claude keeps his eyes closed, the tension seeping out of his body, replaced with the hot buzz of arousal under his skin. He mightn't be able to always get his goals to the back of the net or remember the right words in English or be able to control the puck, but he can do this. And he knows it's not the same, but he can forget that for a little while when he's on his knees like this. Danny's not being gentle and Claude appreciates that, scratches his fingers over the trembling muscle of Danny's thighs, shifts a little to try and relieve some of the pressure in his pants. He reaches down to unbutton his jeans, tight and painful against his cock.

" _Don't_ ," and Danny's tone is harsh and sharp and _perfect_. "Not until I say."

Claude goes from 'hard' to 'on the verge of embarrassing himself' in two seconds flat and he's moans around Danny's cock, tightens his grip on Danny's skin and sucks with renewed vigour, little noises in the back of his throat.

"Jesus," Danny's rough, fingers tight enough in Claude's hair that his scalp stings, hips moving sharp and irregular and so Claude swallows Danny down, holds on tight and lets Danny use his mouth.

"Fuck, Claude, I'm gonna-" Claude pulls off, looking up at Danny, replacing his mouth with his hand. And Danny looks at him, eyes wide. _"Fuck_." And comes.

Claude closes his eyes, feels the warmth of come splatter on his face, his neck, his hair, and he smiles, licking his lips.

"Oh my _God_." Danny says, pulling him up to straddle his lap, kissing him hard.

Claude's pretty sure he's going to die if he doesn't come in the next thirty seconds, presses his face to Danny's neck. "Please." He gasps, hand already on the button of his jeans.

"Through your jeans." Danny says, sounding as wrecked as Claude feels. "Get yourself off."

And it's not going to take much, Claude in Danny's lap, his face smeared with come and he leans back a little, steadies himself on Danny's shoulder, palming himself roughly through the denim. It's too tight and too much but Claude's too far gone to care and it's an embarrassingly short time before he's pressing forward to kiss Danny, shaking hard as he comes. His heart is racing, limbs feeling like he's been skating double shifts.

There's silence as they catch their breath.

"We should talk about this." Danny says after a moment, still petting Claude absently like he would one of the dogs. "You know, you're not five. You don't need to act out to get my attention."

Claude just makes a little noise, tilting his head into the touch, eyes closed. He's not listening, only vaguely aware of Danny still talking.

A sharper tug on his hair and Claude looks up, suddenly alert. "Maybe tomorrow," Danny says affectionately. "You didn't hear a thing I just said, did you?" Claude shakes his head, doesn't want to ruin the mood by talking and Danny laughs, "Tomorrow then." He says. "C'mon. Bed."

*


End file.
